Closer
by stelladelnordxd
Summary: When you walked down those stairs that night, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You looked so beautiful in the blue dress, with the light shining down on you. Then I heard the doorbell ring, and I became so angry. RATED M FOR NON-CONSENSUAL RAPE SWEARS


**Authors Note: Hey there guys, thanks for checking out my Life with Derek one-shot, **_**Closer**_**. This took me a good week to write, and didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, so look out for the one-shot that this should have been. That being said, this is a 5,664 word one-shot containing non-consensual rape and plenty of swear words. It's rated M for that reason. It ends nicely though, so. Hope you enjoy. Jamie.**

She felt like she was in hell. She was at her prom, in this beautiful dress, with this kind-of-awesome guy, and she felt like she was in hell, burning to the depths of it. She had no idea what to do in order to stop this feeling. She just knew that she didn't have it when she walked down the stairs earlier today, and saw _his _reaction. She didn't feel like it when he brushed against her arm, or gave her a small smile. She didn't begin feeling it until her date showed up with his date, and he gave his date a kiss, and she gave hers one. She didn't begin feeling it until she looked up at him one last time and saw that his beautiful smile had faded, and that sadness had replaced the glow in his eyes. She definitely began feeling like she was in hell though, when her date and she went into the limo, and her date made sure to sit beside her. When he tried to grope her in the back seat of the limo, and showed her the hotel room key he got for later and tried to finger her, was when she really began feeling like she was in hell. Because if she wasn't in hell, then wouldn't she have wanted to do those things with her date, and not with him? Wouldn't she be non-repulsed by her date, instead of finding him absolutely...grotesque? Wouldn't she be thinking about her date, and not the man that made her heart beat like a million butterflies were in her atrium, trying to get out? Surely, she, Casey McDonald was in hell, for Truman French, was having enough of her prudish ways, and trying to make her leave the prom. She definitely felt like she was in hell.

* * *

"Truman, let me go." I pleaded, feeling his hand hold my wrist too tightly. I was trying my hardest not to cry. Trying my hardest to talk Truman out of this...this... this horrible act he was about to commit. Didn't he understand that I wasn't ready for this? Of course, I would never be ready with Truman, and maybe he knew that, but this was a vile act that he wanted to commit, and there was no way in hell that I would let him.

"No, Casey. I've been waiting long enough. You promised." He replied, tightening his hold on me. I was positive that my wrist would be shattered and bruised. I wasn't focusing on that though. What I was focusing on was the fact that I kind of did promise. It wasn't a complete promise. I had said that I would think about it. I had thought about it, and I had come to realize that I wasn't ready. Now, why the hell couldn't Truman understand this?

"Truman, I'm not ready. I have been telling you this all night. Please, think about what I am saying." I pleaded with him. He kept walking towards the exit, though. It was obvious that he didn't care. We were at the top of the staircase of the prom's entrance. I did a quick survey around the room. It was obvious that Derek and Emily hadn't shown up yet. I felt my eyes water at the thought that they were out there...doing things together. Things that Derek was doing with the wrong girl.

"Casey, we both know you're ready. Just accept that." Truman growled. I could feel myself gasping. We weren't even close to the limo, and I was beginning to suffocate. This wasn't going to be good. Especially if I couldn't escape.

* * *

The doors to the limo were locked. I was shoved into it when it had arrived. Truman had locked both doors, and had told the limo driver to move the window thing up. Said we wanted privacy. I was trying my hardest not to cry. The limo was dark, and I felt like my life was going to be over. I knew I needed to get out of this car, but I felt trapped. I couldn't move. Not with Truman on top of me, trying to unzip me. We weren't even in the room yet. He was desperate for me. I didn't want him. I wanted Derek. Yet, as Truman finally moaned "fuck it" and began attacking my neck, I knew Derek was doing the exact same thing to Emily...but Emily wanted it. I stopped myself from crying. I knew I couldn't cry. I knew that if I cried, Truman would know I was admitting defeat, and Casey McDonald? She never fucking admits defeat. The ride to the hotel seemed excruciatingly long. Truman had stopped necking me when he realized that I wasn't responding. I was so happy at that. That didn't stop him from saying that it was far from over, though. I had shuddered at those words, and he knew it. He knew that I knew it. He knew he was winning. That thought killed me inside. What seemed like hours after, the two of us finally arrived at the hotel. Or what I was made to believe was the hotel. It was actually a worn-down, beat up piece of shit motel that you see in the horror flicks before someone dies. I shuddered one more time and I knew that my life was going to change for the worse. Truman got out of the limo and paid him, saying we weren't going to need its services for the night. He had grabbed my wrist then, holding onto it tightly once more. I tried not to cry out in pain, but Truman saw this and kneed me. That had really hurt. He dragged me to the motel room door. I was trying my best, I really was. I was kicking, fighting, punching, biting, and screaming. It seemed that no one was going to hear me. That no one was going to save me from this hell-hole. Which was soon confirmed when Truman spoke again.

"This motel use to belong to my dad. It's abandoned now. I have the key to every room. Imagine that, hey Case?" He grinned maniacally at me and began dragging me again. My breathing was ragged, I was scared like hell. He wouldn't let me go, and I wasn't able to convince him otherwise. He knew he was going to go through with this plan. It scared the hell out of me.

"In you go," He said, breaking my thoughts. The motel room door had been opened up, to reveal a stank like no other. The bed was stained and broken, with blood covering the sheets. I was revolted at the sight of it. The lamp was busted, there was no television and the window was too small for me to crawl out of. I could see the bathroom from where I stood, and that window was too small. My only exit was the door, providing that Truman couldn't find a way to lock the busted lock. I prayed my hardest to god that he couldn't. He pushed me to the bed, and before I could try and escape, the door was slammed shut and he was on top of me again. He was making me kiss him, making me do things. I tried to push him off, I tried, I really did.

"Come on Case, you know you want it." I heard him moan. I could feel him pressed up hard against me, and I began crying. This was the end. I began to sob, and next thing I know, my cheek is stinging, and I can feel a slight burn on it. The bastard slapped me. He slapped me, and now he was going to...going to...God, I couldn't even say what he was going to do to me.

"Shut up Casey, you bitch." I couldn't though. I couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop bawling. He was having trouble unzipping the back of my dress and ended up ripping it off me. I felt completely naked, even though I wasn't completely so. He stared at me appreciatively, and I tried covering myself up with the sheets. However, he ripped those up so I wouldn't. When I tried again with my arms, he held those apart from one another. I was still bawling my eyes out. He slapped me one more time, before I heard him say that I would do what he requested, or he would kill me. I didn't want to believe him at all, but I saw the knife on the television stand and knew he was being dead serious.

"Unzip me baby," I heard him say. I cried even harder and shook my head. He slapped me upside the head and pulled my hands to his crotch, and told me one more time to unzip him. My hands were shaking, and I couldn't see what I was doing because of the tears. I was scared and I feared for my life. I wanted someone, mainly Derek, to realize something was wrong. That I wasn't at the prom, like I really wanted to be. That something bad was happening to me. But I knew that he wouldn't. He was too busy with her, and that made me cry even harder.

"Shut up, you bitch." He said. I cried, and my hand accidentally grazed his area. He moaned, and then I was done unzipping him. I knew that wasn't the last though. He made me push his pants down, and then he...he pushed my head towards him. I tried my hardest not to, but I could feel him opening my mouth, forcing himself on me. I hated this. I was still bawling, still wanting Derek, and still hoping someone would save me. I knew no one would though. I wasn't doing anything, so he made me do it. He pushed my head back and forth, way too far. I kept gagging. He kept moaning. I had no idea how he could be turned on by this. I was absolutely repulsed. I was repulsed by him and by myself for letting him do this to me. Next thing I know, his moans and groans are becoming louder and then I feel something liquid in my mouth. I try my hardest to spit it out, but he keeps my head there and tells me to swallow. I shake my head no. He holds the blade to my throat, and I cry harder and do what I'm told. Next thing I know, I'm back on the bed, my back against the mattress. He's groping me and I'm still crying.

"You're doing wonderful," he says. I cry harder. I can't believe what was supposed to be the best night of my life has turned out like this – the worst night. His pants are completely off now, and then next thing I know, I feel searing pain. Over and over again, all I can feel is this pain, and while he keeps thrusting, it worsens. I can see blood on the sheet, and I realize it's my blood. I cry harder and I start punching at him. I feel gross, so I begin kicking. He holds me still, and keeps thrusting. He cums again, and keeps thrusting. He doesn't care how much pain I am in.

"You're so magnificent." He whispers, thrusting harder and harder. Somehow, he lags and slows down, and I take that as my chance. I push him off me and grab my purse by the door, which luckily, is unlocked. I can hear him coming after me, but I keep running. There is no way I am allowing him to catch me. There is no way he is going to keep stealing my virginity. I need help because I know I am too weak. I need Derek. But will he come and save me or is he too busy with Emily? I weaken at that, but keep going at that. I cannot stop. I need to tell him, because if I know I'm not going to survive. I'm too weak, too fragile, to numb. I have no idea how long I ran, but next thing I know, I'm on this street, and there's an open Tim Horton's. I go inside, and see no one pay attention to me. That's good. I go into the bathroom, I go into a stall, and I lock it. Then, I make the call. I cannot stop crying and his phone is ringing. I keep praying, "Please Derek, please pick up your phone. Please. For me." I wait, and I wait some more.

* * *

She was sitting on the floor of the girls' bathroom, bawling her eyes out. Somehow, her dress was managing to stay attached to her body, even though it had been ripped. Her dress was still able to cover some of her horribly bruised assets, if she held her dress up. Her beautiful cell phone – the one that was given to her by the person she phoned – was across the bathroom stall, after she had thrown it in anger. The one person she was truly counting on to be there for her, never picked up when she phoned...even though she phoned more than five times – a record, for her. Her legs were scrunched up so her knees were to her face. She then had her arms around her knees, holding them up. On top of all that, was her head, knelt down to hide the shame she felt about herself. The dirtiness she felt within, because of what had happened to her. She was in too much pain to move, but she knew that she would have to soon, especially if she wanted to arrive home at a decent hour, without anyone worrying about her.

Was anyone worrying about her, she couldn't help but think. She knew that it was three in the morning, and that her mom had told her to spend the whole night out, as long as she called. However, she had only called one person – Derek – and that son of a bitch never picked up the damn phone because he was too busy shacking it up with her best friend, Emily. It had been angering her, ever since she had thrown that phone halfway across the stall. She had always believed that Derek would be there for her, even if he didn't truly like her. He himself had admitted it. Sure, he didn't admit it out loud, but she knew that it was in his actions, his words, and the loving stare he gave her every time he thought she wasn't looking. She knew though, and she had depended on that being enough for him to come and save her from this torturous pain. Clearly, it wasn't, though. Clearly, the only thing Derek truly cared about was anything with a worthy size of tits and a well-worth night of sex and booze. That thought just made her cry even more. She shook her head of these thoughts, because she knew they would do her no good. Instead, she began thinking about getting up to move out of this place. She knew that the motel was more nearby then she would have liked and she also knew that the scum named Truman would be looking for her by now, as it had been three hours since she ran off. What she didn't know was why he hadn't found her yet. Not the point, of course. The point was, was that Casey had to move, and she had to move now, no matter how much pain she was in.

* * *

God fucking hell, Casey was in a lot of pain. Shortly after deciding that she needed to get a move on, she had tried her hardest to move her legs into a position that would help her stand, but it just wasn't possible. Every time she had tried, she would fall back down and groan from the excruciating pain that radiated from her thighs. In the end, it had taken her a near forty-five minutes just to stand up. She then realized that there was no way she was arriving home at a decent hour because of the pain causing her to limp quite badly. By the time she had actually left the Tim Horton's, it was a full hour after her decision. She knew it was going to be slow going by then. As for now, she was nearing her street, thank god, and couldn't wait until she was finally able to crawl home. There was one problem, though. How the bloody hell was she going to be able to get up to her bedroom without anyone noticing her current state of physical – and mental – being. She bit her lip and next thing she knew, she was at her front doorstep. Her parents' car was in the driveway however, Derek's was not. She tried not to let her heart sink at that, but gave herself a steely glare. She couldn't afford to think about Derek and his stupid escapades. The house was dark, including the basement, which meant that her mom and George had indeed gone to bed. From what she could tell through the curtains, no one was waiting for her in the living room, seeing as the television was not sending out a violent light through window, which would normally have indicated that someone had fallen asleep whilst waiting for her. Thank god no one did. She knew that she wouldn't be able to walk through the front door of that house if there was someone that could possibly awaken from her.

Before her mother had remarried, Casey did indeed go out at night with her friends, and whenever she was going to be home late at night, her mother and she had a system, of some sorts. That system was actually quite simple. Her mother would leave her a note in the mailbox stating that the door was open for her, or that a spare key was hidden for her. Quickly looking around the neighbourhood to make sure no one was around to watch her; she quickly put her hand in the mailbox and felt around for that slip of paper. She found it within a minute, and prayed to the lord that she wouldn't have to go look in the dark for a hidden key. She knew she didn't have the strength for something like that. Pulling the slip out, she could easily make out the words, "door" and "open". She let out a breath of relief and quietly turned the doorknob, entering the dark house. Once she was finally in, she locked the door and looked around. No one was there waiting for her. She snuck up the stairs, opened her bedroom door, listened intently to see if she could hear anything in the other room and then looked out the window to her neighbour's house. No lights were on there, and Casey had no idea if she felt happy or sad about that. Either way though, when she crawled into bed, and went under the blankets, she finally let it all loose, bawling her eyes out, clenching the blanket, through to the morning.

* * *

It had been a day later when she heard the resounding knock. She had told the person at her door – her mother – that she wasn't feeling well, and was going to stay in bed until she felt better. However, what the rest of the family didn't know was the fact that Casey was pretty sure she wasn't going to be coming down in a while. She had heard Derek arrive home, and heard some mumblings about Emily and him that for once, Casey didn't seem to care about. She heard Edwin and Lizzie whispering about how they were going to broach a certain topic, but Casey neither cared for that one, either. She had even heard Marti speak to Dimi through the phone about something child-like and innocent. That, however, caught Casey's attention. If there was one thing that Casey wanted for the young child that she loved like her own (but would never tell anyone!), it was the fact that she wanted Marti to be unaware of everything out there in the world that could hurt her. Being raped, or finding out your older stepsister was raped by her boyfriend, was definitely one of those things.

It had been three days. She still hadn't come out of her room and no one had come into it. Not even Derek, which didn't bother Casey one bit. Sure, they all knocked, all wanted to make sure she was okay, but she just said, "I'm fine, just tired," or the "I'm PMS-ing, leave me be," lines. She knew that they wouldn't leave her be forever. Especially Derek, since he had knocked on her bedroom door at least 10 times. He had kicked the wall between their bedrooms at least 15, and had played some of her favourite depressing music, softly, throughout the three days. The sentiment was there, but Casey didn't give a shit anymore. Where was Derek when she really needed him? Definitely not helping her.

It has been six days. Almost a whole week. Casey hasn't eaten a thing; she hasn't slept because she knows if she does sleep, she will have nightmares, and she hasn't left her room, or answered any of the phone calls from her friends, Truman and even Derek, through his cell phone. Hell, she hasn't even changed out of the dress that she felt extremely dirty and slutty in. She couldn't bring herself to.

* * *

It had been two whole weeks. Casey knew school was almost over. She knew she had a big stack of homework to catch up on if she wanted to graduate, she knew that she had nearly 100 missed messages from Truman alone, and at least 50 from everyone else, and she knew that Derek was worried sick. However, she also knew two other things. She knew that she didn't care about anything anymore, and she knew that she had the whole house to herself. She had the perfect opportunity to wash all the scum off of her body. The perfect opportunity to clean herself up and wipe away the horrible memories, if she could. Slowly getting up, Casey grabbed just a towel and her shaving stick, and headed towards the bathroom. She turned on the hot water and got undressed, before turning towards the mirror to look at her body. She had bruises all over her breasts, her arms, her stomach and her thighs. She had dried blood on her thighs and scratches on her back. You could see her ribcage, from not eating for two weeks. She was extremely dehydrated, from crying too much without any water and most importantly, she was clutching her stomach, wondering if it was really protruding. She shook her head at that thought and climbed into the hot shower. She quickly shampooed her hair, which felt quite good, and then got to the rest of her body. She scrubbed her arms raw, turning them blood red, from the heat and the scrubbing brush. She scrubbed her chest, her stomach, her thighs and the area between them, before she finally fell to the shower ground and began shaking and crying uncontrollably. She had been in there for such a long time, feeling so numb, that she didn't notice two things. She didn't notice the water turn freezing cold, or the fact that the front door opened, and Derek Venturi walked into the house with a determined look on his face.

* * *

Fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six hours, ten thousand and eighty minutes had passed since prom. At least, Derek thought. He wasn't good with math involving time. That night, at the prom, he had been breaking up with Emily. He had no idea that it could take her all night to get through all the talking, screaming, yelling and throwing stuff at him to finally accept the fact that he had broken up with her. Then again, she had come close to giving him her virginity. However, when Derek learned that, he had backed out immediately. He himself was still a virgin, though it may seem impossible, and he had only one person on his mind to give that virginity to. However, he hadn't seen her in fourteen days, three hundred and thirty-six hours, and ten thousand and eighty minutes. He hadn't even heard her voice in that long, and it was absolutely killing him. This is why he had decided to enter her room, not giving a shit what she said, and making sure she knew that she could talk to him. It wasn't until he was halfway through opening her bedroom door that he realized she was in the shower. He let out a small smile, happy over the fact that, "hey, Casey was finally doing something other than lying around in bed all day!" However, just thinking about that brought his smile into a frown. He had no idea why Casey would be lying around in bed for the past two weeks, and if he thought about it even more, he was pretty absolute that he didn't want to know why. That wasn't going to stop him from barging in on her in the shower, and questioning her, though. He wanted to know why she was crying every night, and he wanted to know why she never came out of her room, or why Truman (that asshole) kept calling, and she wouldn't reply. She wouldn't reply if it was for a good reason, like he had....had...

"Oh shit." He mumbled to himself, before running into the bathroom, surprised to find it unlocked. What ended up surprising him was the fact that the one woman he truly loved, was sitting down in the fetal position, crying her eyes out. His eyes bulged out, and he didn't know what was happening next. All he could really remember was going to the shower/bath and picking Casey up from the floor, and being soaked in really cold water, and telling her that it was going to be alright. It was then that Derek knew why Casey did nothing for two weeks, or wouldn't accept Truman's calls. It was then that Derek knew that someone would be getting one hell of a beating from him after he helped Casey heal.

"Casey, it's going to be alright, hush now." I murmured into her ear, trying to get her to stop crying. In general, I never did tears because tears meant that I actually cared which I never did when it came to members of the opposite sex. In reality, I never did Casey tears, because I couldn't stand seeing her so heartbroken. I began rubbing circles on her back, trying to calm her the best way I knew how, which wasn't much, because I never really calmed her.

"I'm getting you all wet, Derek." She whispered, sounding so broken. I hated Truman for doing this to her. I hated that scumbag so much, that... Fuck.

"I don't care, Case. Get me as wet as you want," I grinned slightly, knowing she'd recognize the innuendo laced in my voice, "Just get me as wet as you want, as long as you promise you're letting it all out." I finish. She lets out another couple of sobs, and I can feel my heat clenching and unclenching.

"You're going to hurt him, aren't you?" She finally says after what must have been forty-five minutes of us sitting on the bathroom floor. I put my finger under her chin, and make her look up at me. Her eyes are completely red from all the crying she's been doing, but there's love within them, telling me she already knows the answer, and is grateful.

"Yes. He doesn't get away with what he did to you when I'm around, Case." I replied, tears trying to get the better of me. I wouldn't let that happen though, knowing that it would just make her cry even more.

"He...He..." She began, but I shook my head.

"I know Casey, which is why he's never coming around here again." I say, before grabbing Casey's towel and wrapping it around her before lifting her up from the floor. Before I could wrap the towel around her completely though, I saw the bruises and could feel my jaw lock up. She looked me in the eye and dropped the towel. That was completely uncharacteristic of her, but I could still feel myself blushing.

"Derek," she whispered, pulling me into a hug. "It hurts so much." She finished, before I wrapped my arms around her naked flesh. It felt really good, but it wasn't under the right circumstances.

"Casey, I want to hug you right now, but...." I stated, trying not to hurt her more than she already was. She pulled away from my grasp and picked up the towel before wrapping it around herself. She looked down at her feet and mumbled something incoherently.

"Casey, what was that?" I questioned, tipping her chin up once again. She sighed before looking into my eyes.

"I said, how come you never answered any of my phone calls on the night of prom." I furrowed my brow and tried to think back to that night. I always pick up when Casey calls me, so how come I didn't that night? Emily and I went to the first place we went out on a date so I could break up with her. I'm pretty sure she knew that, so I wasn't shocked when she attacked me in the limo and tried to undo my pants and hike up her dress. I had pushed her away and told her that I wasn't in the mood. When we arrived at the first date place, I took her inside, and she had questioned me. When I told her, she grew quite hysterical. She was blubbering, crying, screaming profanities and so much more, so I remember being so happy that my phone had begun to ring. I saw that it was Casey and was about to open it when Emily had...

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted, annoyance growing within me. I saw Casey look up at me with questioning eyes. I sigh and move her to her bed and sit down in her computer chair. She deserves to be comfortable.

"When you called, I was going to pick up the phone, but Emily kind of took it from me, hit ignore and threw it across the room." I saw Casey open and close her mouth like a fish out of water, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Why would she do such a thing?!" She yelled, her eyes narrowing.

"I broke up with her, she was yelling and crying, and I was looking for a way out of the conversation." I replied, shaking my head trying so hard not to remember that night.

"You...you broke up with her? Why?" Casey questioned, her eyes glowing.

"Just wasn't working," I shrugged, hoping I wouldn't have to actually tell her.

"I...I was worried you were...you know," she whispered, eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"No Case, I don't," I replied, confusion clear in my voice. Was she worried that I was "with" Emily? "You thought I was with Emily, sexually?" I replied, aghast. I knew Casey sometimes thought the worst of me, but surely she didn't think I...

"Case, you know I don't sleep with a girl unless I love them, right?" I questioned, watching her eyes go wide and shake her head. I sighed and smiled.

"Well, I do know that. It's just, I needed you that night, and you weren't there, so..."

"So you assumed the worst." She nodded her head and finally looked up at me.

"Why....why did you break up with her, Derek?" I sighed, knowing she wouldn't let me get out of this one. She let me slide out of the other one with ease, not asking me again, knowing I wasn't ready. Now, she wanted to know and unless I wanted to get into a fight with her, I'd have to tell her the truth.

"When you walked down those stairs that night, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. You looked so radiantly beautiful in the blue dress, with the light shining down on you. Then I heard the doorbell ring, and I became so angry. I couldn't believe that a scumbag like Truman French was able to hold your heart, when he cheated on you. With your cousin! You let him, too. He had changed you and I didn't like it one bit. He came in, you still looked so beautiful and I knew... I just knew that I was in love with you, and if you were happy, then I was happy, even if I was dying inside." I grasped, trying my hardest not to cry.

"Are you kidding?!" Casey yelled, shocking me, "I wanted you to take me to the prom so bad. The only reason why I was with Truman was because he kind of reminded me of you." I cringed at that fact, and she saw it, and took my hand. "I wanted to go to prom. When Truman was... raping me, it was you that I thought about. How you weren't going to be my first, or I yours, and how.." She was crying now, and I couldn't take it, so I pulled her into my arms and whispered soothing words to her.

"I'd never hurt you, or let anyone hurt you, Case. I love you too much." I said, looking into her eyes.

"I love you too, Derek." She sniffled, before slightly putting her lips on top of mine and kissing me. When she smiled into the kiss, after I kissed her back, I knew that in the end, she'd be okay with my help.

5,664.


End file.
